Where the Rubbly Updugs Roar

When I was a little girl, my father would sometimes sing to us on car trips. My favorite was an English song about a ship and crew. It was a funny song with great rhyme and meter and he would sing it very fast, which made it even more fun. I never could figure out all of the words, just a few and then hmm hmm hmm and then a few more. It was an extra special treat to hear it.

My dad was not an especially cuddly dad. He worked hard, and was gone a lot. Tenderness did not come easy for him. Although he was a salesman, as I look back through adult eyes I think he was a shy man who found it difficult to connect with people except over business or politics. But I know he loved us. The older I get, the more I know this.

My memory is peppered with joyful images of my dad. Swimming at the beach, we'd jump on his back like he was a whale. He would tell us to count while he held his breath under water. For years I thought he held the world record for holding his breath. I was in absolute awe of this - my dad's unique and wondrous talent. I remember one morning when I was ten or eleven, I was up early and decided to dust the livingroom. Dad came downstairs, stood behind me for a moment, then gave my pony tail a gentle tug before he continued into the kitchen. I still feel his tug.

When my dad sang this song, he was animated and joyful. I think it gave him a sincere and feisty kick that we loved it so much, that although we tried to keep up with him our attempts would collapse into giggles until we got to the chorus again. I was thinking about it this morning, googled it, and what do you know?

A CAPITAL SHIP

A capital ship for an ocean trip was the Walloping Window Blind.
No wind that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind.
The man at the wheel was made to feel contempt for the waters below,
Though it often appeared when the gale had cleared That he'd been in his bunk below.

Chorus
Then blow, ye winds, heigh ho. A-roving I will go.
I'll stay no more on England's shore, so let the music play-ay-ay.
I'm off on the morning train. I'll cross the raging main.
I'm off to my love with a boxing glove, ten thousand miles away.

The boswain's mate was very sedate, yet fond of amusement, too;
He played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled the crew,
And the gunner we had was apparently mad, for he sat on the after rai-ai-ail,
And fired salutes with the captain's boots in the teeth of the blooming gale.

The captain sat on the commodore's hat and dined in a royal way,
Off toasted pigs and pickles and figs and gunnery bread each day,
And the cook was Dutch & behaved as such, for the diet he gave the crew-ew-ew
Was a number of tons of hot cross buns, served up with sugar and glue.

All nautical pride we laid aside, and we ran the vessel ashore
On the Gulliby Isles where the Poo-poo smiles and the rub-bly Up-dugs roar.
And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee-ee-ee,
And the cinnamon bats wore waterproof hats as they dipped in the shiny sea.

On Rugbug bark from morn till dark, we dined till we all had grown
Uncommonly shrunk; when a Chinese junk came up from the Torribly Zone.
She was chubby & square, but we didn't much care, so we cheerily put out to sea,
And we left all the crew of the junk to chew on the bark of the Rugbug tree.